


Dualitas

by averzierlia



Category: STXI - Fandom
Genre: M/M, wing!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-14
Updated: 2010-10-27
Packaged: 2017-10-17 16:59:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/179010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/averzierlia/pseuds/averzierlia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard is so fucking sick of aliens fucking around with the biology of the <i>Enterprise</i> crew. Especially when it's him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_**Dualitas [1/2]**_  
 **Fandom:** STXI  
 **POV:** 3rd  
 **Word Count:** 1113  
 **Pairing:** Kirk/McCoy  
 **Disclaimer:** Never has been, and never shall be, mine.  
 **A/N:** fill for my [](http://community.livejournal.com/hc_bingo/profile)[**hc_bingo**](http://community.livejournal.com/hc_bingo/)  square: wings (sudden onset)

* * *

  
The expression on Jim's face was ecstatic as he reached out a hand and ran trembling fingers over the arch of one wing. "Oh my _god_. These are..."

Turning to give him a glare over his shoulder, Bones snapped, " _These_ are not something to be happy about! I've got wings, man! Stop looking at them like they're the newest Andorian sex toy and help me figure out how the hell to get them off!”, grumbling under his breath about damn fool insane Iowans who didn't have the good sense to want their feet on solid ground, he snapped his wings closed and folded them against his back, making his way to the infirmary.

There were very things Leonard McCoy appreciated less than aliens mucking about with the bodies and minds of the crew of the Enterprise. In fact, if you asked Jim Kirk, the only things he hated more were flying and space. He wouldn't be surprised if his doctor came stomping onto the Bridge soon, demanding he do something about 'Those damn bastards who didn't know when to leave well enough alone - didn't they know that the human body was a delicate thing and fucking around with it was a _bad idea_?' Privately, Jim thought the wings were one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen, and wished a little that he'd been the one to get them.

It was several hours before Jim noticed something was wrong; he'd been deeply entrenched in negotiations with the high priest who had bestowed his 'gift' on Bones and didn't understand that the recipient didn't view it as such. He still wasn't sure exactly why Bones had been singled out...they mentioned something about his eyes, the color maybe? That was it, he thought as he rubbed his temples, trying to ease the headache that had formed during the hours of talks, because the doctor's eyes were a mixture of green and brown, they thought it signified the dual nature of his soul and decided to help along negotiations by giving him the means to balance the two sides of himself more easily.

He'd just been about to request the status of whatever it was Bones had gone to the infirmary to do when there was a chirp from the arm of his chair and Nurse Chapel's voice said, "Infirmary to the Bridge, we have a situation here."

Alarmed, he snaps out, "Report!", drawing the attention of his First Officer with his inquiry.

"It's Doctor McCoy, sir. He's locked himself in his office about 20 minutes ago."

He relaxes a little, "That's not very unusual Chapel."

"No sir, it isn't, but we haven't been making much progress in figuring out how to get rid of the...appendages, and we heard some odd noises coming from behind the door. We think he may be trying to cut them off. They're attached very intricately to his cardiovascular and nervous systems and the effects of attempting something like that would be -"

He doesn't bother waiting for her to finish, his heart pounding with fear, passing the conn to Spock and running for the transporter. He makes it to the infirmary in record time, passing the concerned M'Benga and Chapel on his way to his lover's office. He punches in his Captain's override, and stares blankly for a moment when it's not accepted. He rips out the input plate and unravels the relevant wires - cross them _here_ and _here_ and - there is a small shower of sparks and the door slides open, and he's through before the emergency protocol can compensate and lock it down.

His lover is slumped against the wall, fingers wrapped around the neck of a half empty bottle of bourbon, his wings trailing around him, feathers ruffled and out of place. When he meets Jim's eyes, his expression is one of panic, pupils too wide even in the half-light of the room. Jim isn't even conscious of moving, making his way to kneel in front of the other man. McCoy's fingers are slack when he takes the bottle, setting it safely out of the way as the wings stir slightly.

"Hey." he says, brushing his fingers along the side of Bones' face, trying to draw him back from wherever this panic took him. Bones just shakes his head, moving his face away from Jim's hand. So Jim waits, sitting himself down on the floor and pushing the bottle back a little farther so he won't be tempted to drinks, he has the feeling he'll want to be sober for this.

When McCoy finally talks, his voice is rusty. "There, there was" he pauses "We were running tests, to find out how much they changed with the wings, and I was across from the view screen."

The view screen was one of the most contested features of the infirmary: Bones insisting that if he was going to be expected to keep them all alive he didn't want an unimpeded view of space in his work area, Jim equally insistent that he wouldn't rip about his girl's hull just to remove one small window. He did consent to hacking the damn thing so it looks like a portion of the hull instead.

"It..bothered me, that I couldn't see out of it. So I overrode your hack. I could see the planet. And then, looking out, all I could think about was how much I wanted to get _out_ , down to the planet or if I couldn't manage that", and here his voice cracks, "into the black." His expression shifts from depression back to panic, wings fluttering trapped between the wall and his body. He flails, caught between the two conflicting urges that he's being given, one to fly away, and the second to shrink back and hide from where that flight would surely take him.

Kirk goes up on his knees and pins Bones at the shoulders, leaning so he’s pinned against the wall. "Hey, no, shh. It’s ok, Bones, it’s ok. _I won't let you_ , you can trust me, I'll keep you safe." He repeats it over and over, like a mantra.

When his struggles finally taper off, Jim shifts forward, sliding an arm around his lover's back, snug under his wing joints. Running his fingers through his lover's hair, Jim closes his eyes and rests his head on Bones'.

"The priesthood views the gift of wings as the highest honor. If you can handle it, we need to get you back down to the planet so they can see that it isn't an honor for you."

Nodding his head against Jim's chest, Bones agrees. "Thanks Jim."


	2. Chapter 2

_  
**dualitas [2/2]**   
_   
[Part One](http://community.livejournal.com/ussgalileo/1903.html#cutid1)

It takes about five minutes for McCoy to get cleared to go back down to the planet ( _I'm the damn CMO of this ship, I can clear myself. No, I don't need a Valium. You're all fired! Get the fuck out of my sickbay!_ ) and he finds its a physical relief to be out under the open sky.

He gives himself a mental shake as his wings quiver and itch, but he ignores the longing for flight in favor of glaring at the _stupid priest_ who didn't know how to keep his _religion_ to _himself_. He gets a feeling of satisfaction when the priest blanches and takes a step back.

“I don't want the wings. Get them _off_ ,” he demands, stomping over to the priest (High Priest of The Lady Of The Skies and Forests) and crossing his arms.

The man stutters out something about the wings being a privilege and a gift, but Bones narrows his eyes and glares harder and the man's words stumble to a halt.

“I can pray-”

-Glare-

“There's a spell-”

-Glare, threatening step forward, wings raising to half mast-

“If-you-drink-from-the-sacred-fountain-the-wings-will-be-gone-within-a-day!” the priest squeaks out before running away, his underlings trailing behind him.

“There,” McCoy says with satisfaction, turning to face a stunned Kirk, “that wasn't so hard.”

He heads in the direction of the temple as Jim shakes off his shock and hurries to catch up.

They make it to the temple and into the inner sanctum without anyone trying to stop them (everyone seemed to be giving McCoy a wide berth) and as Kirk says something about taking a sample back to the Enterprise for testing he picks up the _sacred fucking cup_ , scoops up a cupful of the _sacred fucking water_ from the _sacred fucking fountain_ , and drinks it down.

He flips on his communicator and says “Two to beam up.”

Hours later, when his shift is done and Kirk's is almost over, he comms Kirk on the bridge.

Kirk's voice comes through the comm concerned, “Everything okay, Bones?”

“Everything's great,” McCoy drawls, “just thought you might like a chance to play with the wings before they fade.”

Kirk makes an inarticulate noise, which McCoy was expecting given the hard-on he'd had when he'd first seen the wings.

“Meetcha in your quarters, kid.” And with that McCoy signs off.


End file.
